


untitled rain fic

by misterkevo



Series: untitled fics [1]
Category: The OC
Genre: Implied Past Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:38:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misterkevo/pseuds/misterkevo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth helps Ryan find the sun. (Yeah, it's a bit minty.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	untitled rain fic

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first fic I ever wrote and posted! Like, almost eight years ago now! Lord I've gotten old...

Ryan never liked the rain.  
  
Everything in Newport looked so perfect under the sun. The beautiful people smiled and laughed. And judged, but you couldn’t tell from the outside. They drove expensive cars and lived in pretty new houses. They had domestic squabbles and drug habits too, but you couldn’t tell that from the outside either. The sun put an appealing face on a troubled town.  
  
When it rained, things were different. The beautiful people frowned and became sullen. Their houses looked sad and gray. When it rained, Newport didn’t look so appealing anymore.  
  
Days like that made it easy for Ryan to forget he had left Chino at all. The steady rhythm of raindrops falling brought back memories he had spent a long time running from.  
  
Rain evoked in Ryan a special kind of brooding. Worse than his “I got a bad grade on my calculus test” brooding is, and more personal than his “Marissa” brooding ever was. The kind he didn’t like Seth weedling him about. Not that Seth’s incessant nagging didn’t have the tendency to make him smile. It did. But Ryan knew this wasn’t the kind of bad mood that could be fixed with sarcasm and video games. It was more like a cold. He had to ride it out until it had taken its course. So, when it rained, he usually stayed locked in the pool house.  
  
Alone.  
  
No matter how many times Seth called to say he was tired of playing Grand Theft Auto by himself. Which, incidentally, was a lot.  
  
After about the fifth or sixth call Ryan stopped answering. He lay back on his bed, his headphones blaring, eyes closed. He did his best to shut out the sound of rain pouring down all around him. He could have sworn it was getting louder. It almost sounded like…  
  
…knocking?  
  
Ryan opened his eyes to find Seth standing at his door, sopping wet, with a goofy grin. Ryan almost jumped out of his skin, mostly surprised that he hadn’t seen a stunt like this coming. Seth let himself in without asking, and stood watching Ryan expectantly.  
  
“So,” Seth said finally. “It’s raining out there.”  
  
Ryan glared.  
  
“What’s up, man? I tried calling you, like, a thousand times.”  
  
“I’m aware.”  
  
“Okaaay,” Seth said, eyebrows raised. “Do you wanna t-talk about it?”  
  
“You’re shivering,” Ryan said. His voice betrayed more concern than he would have liked, but then again Seth had caught him off guard.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Seth assured him, stuffing his shaky hands into his pockets. “Just, what is it, a million degrees below zero in here? Is the heat busted or something, cuz you should totally say something about stuff like that. We can have someone come fix it lickety-split. What does that even mean anyway?”  
  
Seth went on babbling about the origins of the term “lickety-split” while Ryan fetched him a towel. The wet boy’s tongue became stuck, if only temporarily, as Ryan wrapped the towel around his thin, shaky figure.  
  
“Thanks,” Seth murmured, sitting next to Ryan on the bed.  
  
They sat in silence for a while, but when you’re in a room with Seth Cohen, silence only lasts so long.  
  
“So, what’s up with you and rain?” Seth asked. “You get, like, extra brood-y whenever it rains. You’d think you would like the rain. You know, since it sounds so much like Ryan? Rain, Ryan? Ryan, Rain?”  
  
Ryan did his best to keep glaring.  
  
“You see how the two sounds are similar?”  
  
But despite himself Ryan couldn’t keep the grin from sneaking across his face.  
  
“Ahhh, I saw that,” Seth crowed. “Now come on. Share.”  
  
“Rain just..reminds me of home. Chino, I mean.”  
  
“And this is a bad thing?” Seth wheedled.  
  
“Whenever it rained when I was little,” Ryan began, unsure of how much he wanted to share, “my mom wouldn’t let me out to play. She said she didn’t have time to be taking care of sick kids.”  
  
He glanced over at Seth, waiting for him to make some remark. For once, Seth remained silent.  
  
“I knew that wasn’t why,” he continued. “My dad. He, uh. He didn’t like the rain that much, either. The roof leaked. He would just sit there, watching water drop into the bucket. And drink. But that wasn’t because of the rain. He never needed a reason to drink. Or, uh…”  
  
Ryan stopped when he heard the rain bucket crash against the wall in his mind. The heavy footsteps coming down the hall. It’s hard to hide when you’re confined to the tiny shack he used to call home.  
  
“He hit you.” It wasn’t a question.  
  
The sound and feel of his dad’s leather belt on his skin.  
  
“Are you surprised?”  
  
Cries swallowed up by a clap of thunder.  
  
Ryan’s cheeks felt warm, and he realized the crying wasn’t a memory. It wasn’t until he lifted his hand to wipe the tears away that he noticed it was being held. He felt Seth’s arms go around him, warmer than any towel Ryan had to offer.  
  
“It’s okay,” Seth whispered, over and over, his words washing over Ryan like sunlight. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”  
  
In some dim corner of his mind, Ryan knew he wouldn’t be able to hide from the rain anymore. He just couldn’t bring himself to care.  
  
It’s hard to care about anything when Seth Cohen was kissing away your tears.


End file.
